


the universe took its time on you

by shellybelle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellybelle/pseuds/shellybelle
Summary: When Dex opens his eyes, he’s alone in bed. Nursey's bed, he thinks, and feels a curl of warmth--this is Nursey’s bed in his moms’ Manhattan apartment, in his childhood bedroom, where the walls are a gentle, soothing green, and the wide double bed with its soft dark grey sheets is comfortable and, even now, trying to coax Dex back into sleep.





	the universe took its time on you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 6 of NurseyDex Week 2017 - “Soft(tm)”
> 
> Sorry for the late posting! Went to a wedding and got real drunk instead. Oops???

 

the universe took its time on you

crafted you precisely

so you could offer the world

something different from everyone else

so when you doubt

how you were created

you doubt an energy greater than us both

(rupi kaur)

 

When Dex opens his eyes, he’s alone in bed.

 

Nursey’s bed, he thinks, and immediately smiles, even though he’s on his own, and the mattress feels weirdly large without another body next to him. Not Nursey’s bed underneath his, in their shared room in the Haus, where they’ve squeezed together on a twin mattress, elbows and knees knocking, arms reaching out to make sure no one falls off during sex or sleep.

 

No, this is Nursey’s bed in his moms’ Manhattan apartment, in his childhood bedroom, where the walls are a gentle, soothing green, and the wide double bed with its soft dark grey sheets is comfortable and, even now, trying to coax Dex back into sleep. They’d fallen into it last night after going out to dinner with all four of Nursey’s parents, his moms and his dad and his step-mom, and Dex had been wine-warm and loose-limbed. He’d reached for Nursey’s mouth and Nursey had laughed, kissed him so sweet that Dex’s toes had curled, and they’d both been too sleepy to take advantage of the size of the bed or the thickness in the walls.

 

“We’ll have morning sex,” Dex had mumbled into Nursey’s shoulder, wrapping himself around him, the linen sheets somehow both cool and comforting. “It’ll be good. Hot n’ stuff.”

 

And Nursey had laughed, and reached back to squeeze his hip. “Whatever you want,” he’d said, and Dex had fallen asleep smiling.

 

It’s some kind of blessing that he doesn’t have a hangover; they’d had a _lot_ of wine at dinner. Nursey’s mama had sold a piece at her gallery for a price so high Dex’s head had spun, but they’d been celebrating, and despite his awkwardness at the expensiveness of the restaurant and probably the cost of the wine, he’d been caught up in the _warmth_ of Nursey’s family.

 

(When they’d met, Dex had figured there couldn’t be so much love there, because otherwise why would they send their kid states away to boarding school, but last night, there had been laughter, and gentleness, and even the occasional moments of tension were soothed away with softness, not with deflection.

 

“We weren’t always like that,” Nursey had said when they’d gotten into bed, after the kissing but before the crash. “We worked for it, all of them and me and my sisters. It’s good now, Dex. It’s so good.”

 

And Dex had kissed him again, because there’s so much _joy_ in Nursey’s voice, and he’s so beautiful like this, when he’s happy, that Dex doesn’t think he could do anything else.)

 

Dex allows himself a few more moments of basking in the soft, comfortable bed, and then rolls over and sits up, running a hand over his eyes. The rest of the room is empty, but Nursey’s phone is gone from the bedside table, and there’s a water bottle and some Advil next to it, along with a post-it scrawled in Nursey’s barely-comprehensible handwriting:

 

_**hey sleepyhead. :) went to get breakfast. Coffee’s in the kitchen if you wake up before i’m back. Don’t burn the house down.** _

 

_**and drink some water, ya wine lush. - <3 D** _

 

Dex snorts, putting the post-it back on the nightstand and picking up the water bottle. Nursey had matched him drink for drink last night, but Nursey, who is an asshole, doesn’t get nearly the hangovers he should. Sometimes his luck is just unbelievable.

 

He swallows two pills just to be on the safe side (he’d turned twenty and suddenly found out that his hangovers operate on a delayed start, so it’s better to be cautious even if his head’s not hurting _now_ , and what the fuck, honestly, he’s two young for this) and gets out of bed. He pulls a pair of basketball shorts out of his duffle and tugs them on over his boxers, just in case either of Nursey’s moms are home, then heads into the bathroom to pee and wash up a little, brushing his teeth to get rid of the taste of sleep and lingering alcohol.

 

When he finally gets downstairs, he’s fully awake and more than ready to find some coffee.

 

Instead, he catches sight of Nursey, and freezes.

 

It strikes him, sometimes, how stark the differences between the different sides of Nursey are. On the ice, he’s power and determination, strength and a capacity for quick-thinking that makes Dex’s head spin. In the Haus, on campus, he’s warmth and laughter, always pushing but never cruel, self-deprecating humor and easy grins. In bed, he’s all sweetness--quiet sounds, long, lingering kisses, strong hands that touch so tenderly that the first time, Dex had come before he’d realized how close he was.

 

And then there’s this:

 

Nursey at rest, comfortable and content in any space he feels like is _his_. Dex sees him like this so rarely that it always takes his breath away: there’s a softness that comes over him that Dex rarely sees anywhere else, not in public, not around the team, not even in bed. All of the tension that he carries, just from living in a world that wants to punish him for existing in the body he lives in, the way he prays, the people he loves, all of it seems to bleed away from him. He turns to softness, to quiet, to such gentle calm that it soothes something deep in Dex’s soul to see it.

 

He’s curled now in the corner of the sectional in the living room, the morning sun streaming in through the windows and casting soft gold light onto his cheekbones and brightening the strands of lighter brown scattered through his dark curls. He’s wearing a grey Georgetown t-shirt that must have been his dad’s once; it’s a little large in his shoulders but clearly worn to softness from years and years of washing. One long leg dangles off the couch, the other tucked under it, and what seems like half a mile of his skin is on display--Dex sees his jeans thrown onto the edge of the couch, and realizes he must have ditched them to lounge in boxers instead.

 

There’s a steaming mug in one of his hands, a book in the other. His eyes are soft and attentive as he reads, his lips curved in the smile Dex only sees when he’s lost in a book. He’s never met anyone who has as many different smiles as Nursey does, but he thinks he might love this one the best.

 

He gets lost in how long he’s been staring, because Nursey glances up from his book and startles a little, then laughs. “Jesus, Dex,” he says, leaning forward to put his mug down on the coffee table. “Creep much, babe?”

 

Dex shakes his head, not sure how to answer. He crosses the room and gently takes Nursey’s book from his other hand, notes the page number before closing it and putting it down next to the mug. “Sit back,” he murmurs, and Nursey, cocking an eyebrow, rearranges himself against the cushions. Dex climbs into his lap, his knees on either side of Nursey’s hips, and feels Nursey’s arms wrap loosely around his waist. “Hi,” he says.

 

“Hey,” Nursey says, smiling up at him, and his eyes are still soft, that gentle happiness that’s so unlike elation on the rink or ecstatic arousal when they fuck. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning,” Dex says. He brings his hands up and cups Nursey’s face carefully, strokes his thumbs over the roughness of his stubble. After a moment, he leans down to kiss him, and Nursey hums contentedly against his lips. It’s chaste and closed-mouthed, but there’s tenderness in it, their lips meeting once, twice, three times.

 

When Dex pulls away, Nursey cocks his head, eyes curious at whatever he sees in Dex’s face. “What’s going on in your head, Poindexter?”

 

“I love you,” Dex says, because nothing else he could say would be as true as this. Nursey’s eyes widen a little before they crinkle at the corners, just like they always do when Dex says he loves him, like it takes him by surprise every time. “You’re beautiful like this, and I love you.”

 

Nursey smiles up at him. “Like what, babe?”

 

“Like this,” Dex says again. He gestures around them, to the gentle paint colors on the walls, the abundance of plants, to Nursey’s clearly handmade mug, the well-loved book of poetry, the soft-worn shirt he’s wearing. “At home,” he says, for lack of a better way to phrase it. “Happy.”

 

“Baby,” Nursey says. He leans up, and kisses Dex again. “I’m not happy because I’m home,” he says, when they part, and his face is so sweet Dex’s heart clenches in his chest. “I’m happy because...because I have everything I need.”

 

Dex cocks his head to one side. “Yeah?” he says. “Coffee and a book and a couch?”

 

Nursey runs his thumbs gently over the dips of Dex’s hips, not sexual, just warm. “Coffee and a book and a couch,” he agrees, “and my boyfriend, asleep in my bedroom, gorgeous and sweet and in love.” His smile goes even gentler, and he tips his face for another kiss. Dex gives it to him.

 

“I have you,” Nursey says, when they part, and this moment, Dex thinks, this, right here. He could stay here forever. “I have you.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the softest shit i've ever written i don't even know
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
